


The Eagle of the West and the Bear of the East

by StarlightOnInk



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Action/Adventure, Airbender Alfred, Airbender America, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, AmeRus - Freeform, Avatalia, Avatar Alfred, Avatar America, Crossover, Drama, Fantasy, Hetalia, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Romance, RusAme, Waterbender Ivan, Waterbender Russia, waiting for spring
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-01
Updated: 2017-09-01
Packaged: 2018-12-22 09:35:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,704
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11964672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/StarlightOnInk/pseuds/StarlightOnInk
Summary: The Avatar, born as an air nomad, had long been accustomed to doing things his way. He left his tribe to complete his Avatar training as he saw fit, mastering firebending and even earthbending, most difficult element for airbenders such as himself. But to truly master waterbending, to properly maintain balance in the world, he has been told there is only one with the skill (and endurance) to teach him. They call him the Bear of the East, a formidable bender named Ivan. But the Avatar may gain more than just training from this skilled master with the amethyst eyes.





	The Eagle of the West and the Bear of the East

**Author's Note:**

> 13,700+ words, 29 pages later, and it is done. I had an absolute blast writing this. I drew heavily from the lore of the Avatar world, so pretty much anything presented in this fic is based on ATLA canon, including bloodbending, healing, metalbending, and how airbenders operate. I hope that this can be enjoyed by those who may not be familiar with the series, but if you have any questions I will gladly answer them, or if you have suggestions for how I can make it more accessible I would love to act on them. Feedback of any kind is greatly appreciated. Thank you very much for your time!

**The Eagle of the West and the Bear of the East**

Wind whipped at his cheeks, burning his exposed flesh as he cursed these low temperatures for the eighteenth time that morning. All around him, signs of winter’s true encroachment made their presence known. His return to the Western Air Temple had been as successful as he could have hoped; he had gathered information and obtained a way to act upon the advice he had received. But it filled him with a melancholic weight to go back there, to hear everyone ask if he was returning for good, if he had learned the error in his ways. The Avatar had returned to his birthplace in the west, but only for brief guidance on how to proceed.

It had begun in the Earth Kingdom. There, with its multitude of resources, scholars, scrolls, and masterful benders, Alfred had sought to complete his training. Unfortunately, his impatience and stubbornness had outweighed his reserve and that of all who came into contact with him. He was told to return home and embrace the instructions he had spurned all those years ago. And there, he addressed his current dilemma.

To be a fully realized Avatar, he needed to master each element, be able to manipulate the very seams of their world to his desires. Fires raged and extinguished themselves in time with the sway of his fingertips; the ground cracked beneath the lightest of his steps. Before even all of this, he danced on the very whispers of wind, letting it carry him to the clouds.

But the source of all life remained elusive. Despite earth being his natural opposite, it was water that proved difficult for him to control. Everything about it stumped the Avatar; he himself would perspire after several minutes of trying to keep a sizable volume of water suspended before him. Soon, it would slip from his grasp, splashing against him to wash away some of the sweat, but none of the frustration.

But there were no benders who wished to teach him. Many instructors who came highly recommended ultimately gave up for this reason or that. And that was how he found himself seated on a bench beside an open air market within the Norther Water Tribe, seeking audience with the man who would be his last resort. The Bear of the East, he was called, though the explanations for such a name varied. Some say it was due to the furs he wore, others claimed the name came from his ferocious nature, others still attributed it to his moody temperament. Whatever the case, he was said to be something of a master and, just as importantly, was never one to back down from a challenge. Any fight, mission, job of any kind, he was too stubborn to refuse and, even if it took months, would continue to work at it until it was complete.

That kind of sheer bullheadedness was just what a man needed to work with the Avatar. Or, so he had been told.

He shivered slightly against the growing chill. Summer was over and autumn was brief; this far north, winter would be arriving quickly and powerfully. The people milling around him, bundled up in white furs and pale blue coats, did not seem to mind as much. For all the wisdom of hundreds of past lives, Alfred had not shown much prudence when selecting his clothes. He was dressed in a motley of articles acquired from all his travels; as a result, he looked to be from just about everywhere: the Earth Kingdom of Ba Sing Se, the Fire Nation, the Western Air Temple, and more recently, the Northern Water Tribe.

The Avatar glanced around, the crisp wind ruffling the stubborn strand of hair atop his head. How long was he expected to wait? Hunching his shoulders up, he rubbed his hands together, back and forth, the friction and his bending causing smoke to rise between his fingers.  _ Ah, much better _ . So engrossed in his newfound warmth, he did not at first notice the large shadow looming over him.

“So you are already a firebender.”

His hands flew apart as his head whipped round, eyes darting all around; he did not have long to look, for the person before him was hard to miss. It became clear in that instant that the meaning behind the Bear’s name could plainly be attributed to his size. Alfred had never seen anyone so large before in his life; the Bear towered over his place on the bench, his already massive frame exacerbated by the layers of thick furs he wore. Bright violet eyes met his own blue ones with almost alarming ferocity and assuredness. A thick travel-worn scarf was wrapped snugly about the thick column of his neck, nestled above broad shoulders. His arms were crossed, stance full of judgment.

This giant of a bender would be his teacher.

“Are you,” Alfred began, but paused. He had never learned the man’s first name. There was only one way to go from here. “Are you the Bear of…the East?” It sounded absurd to even his ears.

The violet eyes of the hulking giant narrowed infinitesimally. “You learned the elements out of order,” was all he said in answer. His voice was deep, rumbling, full of surety.

Alfred grimaced, but nodded. He would not be cowed to the hidden accusations. “Yes. I did. And I’m glad for it.”

“You were supposed to learn water first,” the Bear pressed, not about to be deterred.

Alfred’s lips pressed into a thin line. “Water wasn’t going so well. But I’m here now, and I want to learn.”

“You  _ need _ to learn. It is your duty.”

They stared at each other for a long moment. Around them, members of the Water Tribe went about their day; gondola riders glided silently through the water while, on land, a few necks craned as their owners walked by, curious as to the exchange between the odd duo.

“I’ve been told you’re the best to go to,” Alfred began. “I need a teacher and, well, isn’t it a sign of how capable I am if I can learn in whatever order I want?”

The great Bear seemed unimpressed. The corners of his thin lips were pulled down in a frown that had not quite left him since he first spoke. His full face gave off very little of what he was thinking, it seemed to Alfred, who always found it hard to read people.

With little warning, the towering man turned his back on Alfred and began striding away. Alfred gaped after him; the Bear’s long legs and loping strides brought him almost around the corner in a matter of seconds. His head of silvery hair turned, then, a single violet eye peering at Alfred. “Are you coming?” he said coolly, his soft, deep voice barely carrying.

The Avatar scrambled, hurriedly collecting his bags and jogging after him. “Say, uh, I didn’t catch your name,” he panted as he caught up. “Think I should know what to call you if you’re going to be teaching me.”

“You can call me Grandmaster Ivan,” the Bear, Ivan, said simply, not slowing or looking at Alfred.

“Grandmaster? So you’re an actual teacher?” Alfred had conjured up an image of a lone rogue bender who got in a lot of professional fights, or was a member of the army, or perhaps a royal.

“Clearly. And I will be teaching you. But first, you need to get proper clothes. You will not be warm enough dressed like that this far north.”

Alfred excitedly waved away the comments. “Airbenders can re-”

“Can regulate their body temperature, I know,” Ivan cut in, nodding. “But you will not be doing any other bending besides waterbending while you are learning with me.”

Alfred stopped in his tracks as they were halfway across a bridge. Water sloshed beneath them as gondolas glided slowly through the waterways. Alfred clutched his beloved glider as he stared in incredulity. “Aw, come on, now, there’s no need for a blanket ban on all other bending!” he said imploringly.

Ivan shook his head. “Immersion is the best way for you to learn. You should have mastered water first anyway, so if you did it properly you would not be using any other bending anyway.” He turned away as Alfred stomped his foot in protest, teeth grinding. He continued giving Ivan a thorough list of exactly why he should be able to use his other bending all across the bridge, down several streets, and to the stall where Ivan carefully purchased thicker clothes for Alfred to wear.

“From now until the end of your training with me,” Ivan said firmly, pushing the thick coats, shirts, and so forth into Alfred’s arms. “You are a waterbender, and a waterbender only.”

Alfred’s free hand felt warmer and warmer by the second, and he was sure the simplest movement on his part would have half the Northern Water Tribe melting in seconds. Alfred did not come quietly; rather he muttered in a very carrying voice all his protests, which fell on deaf ears. When he was level with Ivan, he caught sight of his expression and realized none of his bitter rantings seemed to be having the desired effect.

Rather, the Bear was smiling.

“Something funny?” Alfred demanded, the bottom of his glider clacking against the compact ice and snow they strode on.

“Not at all,” Ivan replied with that same amused look. He walked on, throwing a few curious glances at Alfred’s glider.

“It expands,” Alfred explained after the fourth look. He demonstrated, the apparently long thin plank of wood folding out to reveal sprawling wings. In a burst of pride and forsaken modesty, Alfred added, “Now watch.”

Ignoring Ivan’s claim of “I know what it does!” Alfred grabbed tightly onto the wings, gave himself a running start, and kicked off. Through the cool northern air he flew, up over the streets and sparkling white rooftops. The sun flashed in his eyes where it danced in the rippling river water as he rose and dove, twisted and turned. The chilly air bit at his exposed cheeks, turned the back of his neck to ice, but even then Alfred felt alive, exhilarated, rejuvenated such as he had not during all his time of waiting for the Bear to show up. Even with the powers of all the elements at his disposal, Alfred felt most alive when in the air.

He smiled cheekily and waved down at Ivan as he passed over him. Suddenly the towering figure did not look so imposing from up here. Now he was but a blur of blue and purple hues topped by a shock of silver hair. Though it was hard to tell from this distance up above, Alfred thought perhaps Ivan looked something close to awed.

When he’d had his fill of showing off, Alfred gradually lowered himself and came in for a smooth landing fifteen feet from Ivan. Some of his earlier wonder was barely visible beneath his renewed sternness. “Very good, if you can control the air. That won’t help you much with water, though.”

“Not unless I can just fly over it,” Alfred pointed out smugly as he folded his glider once more. His cheeks were burning with cold, reddened from the wind whipping at them. As they resumed their walk, Alfred let his bending keep himself warmed inside. Beside him, Ivan looked equally unaffected as if he could do the same.

“But you cannot as a waterbender,” Ivan reminded him, leading them through a small yet ornate gate that brought them outside the main walls of the city. “Put those on,” he added, nodding to the clothes, now slightly chilled from where Alfred had discarded them on the ground for his little flight session. Alfred did so, with much protest and hardship. Big as they were, the clothes were difficult to put on over his other garb, and by the time he was done Alfred felt exceptionally stiff.

Ivan watched all of his struggles with mild amusement. “You can change out of your other rags when we get to the house,” he said as he once more turned without warning and walked on. He decidedly ignored Alfred’s rants and protests as he led them down a tidy winding path out of the main city that traveled through a quaint smaller village area. Further and further it stretched, giving way occasionally to stretches of empty fields and one large lake. Some of the water was frozen over, though enough was thawed where fishermen clad in the traditional blue of the Water Tribe were pacing. It was near this lake that they went, Alfred now several paces behind Ivan as he craned his neck every which way to take in all the sights.

They arrived at a small wooden house bearing intricate wood detailing around every corner. Just beside it was yet another, single-story wood structure that looked to be about a quarter the size of the main house.

“ _ This _ is where you live?” Alfred asked in open disbelief. His lips were turned up in a wry smile. It clearly wasn’t big enough to be a proper school and had all the homey touches of being someone’s private residence. “Kind of imagined something bigger or darker for someone who gets called  _ the bear _ .”

“I did not think up that name,” Ivan replied, gathering wood from a nearby fire before opening the door. “And you’re the only one to call me it to my face.” He hefted up the bundle of wood as he stepped into his house, carefully tugging off his boots.

“Guess I’m just full of surprises for you, huh?”

“Not really.”

“What!?” Alfred charged after him, only to be dead stopped by a large hand against his chest. “Oof!” he choked, stumbling back. Vaguely he wondered just how dense Ivan had to be not to be moved at all by that.

“Shoes off,” Ivan requested simply, moving further into the house. Inside saw the continuation of the intricate woodwork seen on the exterior, making up a small but comfortable home fit for one and a few guests. “No need to give you a bigger ego,” Ivan added as he carefully set his collection of wood into a rack beside a stone fireplace nearby.

Alfred bent over to undo his shoes. Or, he tried to. But the layers and layers of thick clothing left him unable to do more than simply sway dangerously forward and back. Biting his lip, Alfred grunted as he bent forward. Felt a sudden jolt. Lost his balance.

Arms windmilling, Alfred began to tumble forward, only for large hands to wrap tightly around his arms. Slowly, his eyes traveled up those thick arms clad in blue, passed impossibly broad shoulders, finally to rest on amethyst eyes. Ivan’s pale eyebrows were raised in obvious humor, an unmistakable smirk tugged at his lips. Alfred scowled, delicately pulling free with a dignified huff.

“Yes, your training really taught you a lot,” Ivan drawled, not moving from his spot so close to Alfred. His response was an indignant glare treading dangerously into pouting territory.

“Yeah, yeah, so this is your bear cave, yadda, yadda. Let’s get to splashing some water around.”

“Splashing water around?”

_ Bad move, Avatar _ , Alfred realized with a sigh. Teachers of all elements could be very…particular about how their subject was handled. “You know what I mean.”

“You know what I mean…what?”

Alfred stared blankly at him. Surely, he didn’t mean…?

But the violet flames dancing in Ivan’s strange eyes gave Alfred his answer.

“You know what I mean…Grandmaster,” Alfred ground out, barely moving his lips.

Ivan looked far too pleased, nodding in abundant approval. “Very good. That was not so hard, was it?”

“So,  _ Grandmaster _ …when do we start already?”

“Tomorrow morning.” Ivan returned to tending to the fire. “You just came from a long trip. Nothing I teach will stick if we try anything today. Tonight the goal is to just rest and prepare.”

“What!? Nothing until tomorrow? Aw, come on, I’ve come all this way, I’ve waited all this time to learn waterbending- why waste twelve hours?”

“You wasted plenty of time skipping water,” Ivan countered, rising from his place by the hearth. He took long, loping strides into the other room, returning with a large basin of soup, which he placed over the crackling flames. Their golden light caressed the round underside of the basin, amber against black. Liquid could be heard splashing around within as the large pot swayed forward and back, echoing in the vast chamber.

“You’re not going to let that go anytime soon, are you?” Alfred said, arms folded tight over his chest…or as tight as they could be in these thick confines.

“Yes, I am. You had specific instructions to follow, rules that followed the very nature of our world, and you completely disregarded them.” Even in his disapproval, Ivan gestured for him to head further in. Alfred wobbled over, working to peel off a layer or two, now that they were inside and he would be near the fire.

“You sure do know a lot about the Avatar, don’t you,” Alfred said dryly as he padded over. He took a seat beside a pile of oversized cushions.

“I do. For any bender it is important to understand all the other elements to truly master your own. And Avatar history is included.” Ivan stirred the contents of the round basin with a ladle, bringing it up to his thin lips and tasting experimentally. “Not warm enough.”

“I can speed that up,” Alfred offered, raising his hand and closing it into a fist. Ivan yelped, dropping the ladle as if it had bitten him. “I only meant to heat the soup! I’m sorry!” he cried in alarm, flying to his feet.

Ivan stared, hand clutched to his chest, shoulders rising and falling. “You…did not…you only got the soup,” he got out at last. He hurriedly moved his hand away, as if hoping to undo the action.

“Then what happened?”

“I told you, no other bending while you’re here! Especially firebending!” Ivan snapped, eyes suddenly blazing. He turned back to the soup, now steaming hot, and bitterly doled out great spoonfuls into two bowls.

“It was an accident, alr-  _ Grandmaster _ ,” Alfred said sullenly as he accepted his dinner. “You’re way too on edge for your own good.”

“And you are not on edge enough,” Ivan countered tersely, blowing at his soup. “You have duties and a tribe to contribute to.”

“You say you’re so knowing of the four nations. Then you’ll know Air Nomads value freedom above everything else.”

“And I also know they live a life of restraint, of discipline that any member of the Fire Nation would respect.” The light of the fire splashed across Ivan’s full features, his pale brow and shock of thick light hair. His violet eyes looked almost brown.

Alfred’s eyes remained trained on the floor, somewhere between his thickly padded feet. “Well…I like to think that love of freedom puts me well within my rights to live as I choose. That kind of life wasn’t the one for me, so I was free to pursue my own path.” With renewed surety, Alfred forced his sapphire gaze back up to collide with Ivan’s amethyst one. He knew a fleeting moment of triumph when he saw those violet spheres widen slightly; Ivan had been caught off by Alfred’s refusal to be shamed. And why should Alfred be made to feel ashamed? It was his choice for his life, and no one was to tell him he was wrong. “I made my choice and I don’t regret it,” he said with finality, somewhat lessening the effect by turning to his soup right after. For several long moments, only the sound of Alfred’s spoon against the glass bowl broke the persisting silence.

“Well, then,” Ivan said after a pause. “Perhaps you do have some helpful training after all.” He hesitated, then began eating his own stew as well.

Alfred made a noise of approval, slurping up some broth. “You got that right, Grandmaster Bear,” he teased, unable to help himself.

“Please don’t make a habit out of that.”

“Oh, I have to now that you said that.”

“Spirits give me strength.”

Alfred snickered, something he had not predicted happening for some time. “But really,” he said, scraping the bottom of his bowl for stray bits of vegetable. “You’re fine with waiting until tomorrow?”

Ivan nodded, finishing up his own meal. “I have been thinking about how best to approach this for a while.” He rose, grabbing Alfred’s bowl.

“Awhile, huh?” Alfred asked, reclining on the cushions. “How long have you known you’d be my teacher?”

Ivan stood in the doorway, glancing at him over his shoulder with an enigmatic look. “Since rumors started to spread you had yet to master water.” He disappeared through the doorway.

“Huh.” Alfred was left to ponder this for a few moments before he was called over to be shown his quarters. His room, it transpired, was rather small but nice enough to do what it needed. It certainly wasn’t as spacious as the suite he had enjoyed as an honored guest in the palace of Ba Sing Se. But there was something just as pleasant in this small space with its warm colors and thick blankets and odd wooden trinkets.

“You can leave your glider in here for training,” Ivan instructed, poking his head in as Alfred bounced onto the bed.

“Thank you for having me,” Alfred said courteously. His new teacher may be abrasive and fun to mess with, but he still knew how to practice common decency.

Ivan bowed his head in acceptance, eyes lingering on his glider. “Try to get used to not bending anything else for morning,” was all he said before once more gliding away. Alfred could hear the gentle patter of his loping gait as he walked leisurely away, leaving Alfred alone with his thoughts. He sighed, lying more fully down on the bed. It was cool inside, but not terribly so. Still, he allowed his mastery of the elements to keep his body temperature regulated to something more comfortable. Something he’d feel if he were further south. Things were easier to do when warm, he believed, without the constant shivering and seeking warmth. Still, Alfred figured, he was here, among the Northern Water Tribe, a seat of culture and power in its own right. Here too was beauty and strength, visible even among the blinding white walkways and bridges and sprawling defensive walls that guarded the old city. Hopefully this, and the gruff towering waterbender just a few doors down, would be enough to help him be whole at last.

0o0o0

“Time to get up, Avatar Alfred…Alfred…Wake up, Avatar…we need to start training…Avatar Alfred.”

Alfred groggily mumbled and batted at the strong hand gripping his shoulder. He was being relentlessly nudged and pushed. Barely a minute ago he had rested his head atop a thick pillow, only to now be forced to get up.

“But the bed’s comfortable,” he grumbled, twisting onto his other side. This earned him a hard shove, nearly pushing him right off the bed. “Hey! Stop! Come on, I just got comfortable!”

“You’ve been asleep for eight hours. I say you have been comfortable long enough.” And with a mighty tug, the blankets were ripped right off of him.

Alfred shrieked, curling in on himself, breathing deep, summoning his inner flame to keep him warm.

“None of that,” Ivan chastised. Alfred blinked angrily up at him in the semidarkness. Sunlight was barely trickling over the horizon outside, leaving his new room bathed in a deep blue hue. “I told you we need to start training. You were just telling me yesterday you did not want to wait.”

“That was when I was awake,” Alfred grumbled, arms hugging his sides as he straightened.

“You are awake now. Come on, hurry up.”

This was destined to be a bad morning, if not a bad day. Alfred moved in autopilot as he numbly grabbed his clothes, this time donning only the Water Tribe regalia as per yesterday’s instructions. Ivan had already set out a humble breakfast for each of them, promising more after they had some training under their belt. It seemed their positions had completely switched since yesterday; Ivan now was the one keen on getting them both outside and training while Alfred would have been fine waiting a few more decades if it meant he could sleep more. A harsh chill had settled over Ivan’s little corner of the North Pole when they stepped outside, the pale light of the sun washing out the quiet dawn of a new day.

“We should start by seeing what you  _ can _ do,” Ivan said as he guided them over to a clear patch of snowy land. He gestured with a wide wave of the hand at the white landscape all around them, the lake nearby, the shivering birches in their crystal sheaths of morning ice. “Show me what you know.”

Alfred hesitated, eyes darting around. He had never worked with snow before, always choosing to try his luck on liquid water. It would be harder, he always figured, to work with something so solid when, as an airbender, he was adept at working with that which was constantly changing. He took a deep breath and focused on the glassy surface of the lake. Slowly, Alfred raised his arms, fingers outstretched, willing the water to move with the pull of his body. To his delight, a large bubble of liquid slowly rose from the previously still surface, quivering in the air as it rose in time with his hands-

And then broke, collapsing back into the lake with a resigned  _ splash _ .

“Impressive,” Ivan hummed, stepping up beside him.

“Really?”

“Yes, very. I was not able to do that until I was ten.”

Alfred ground his teeth, hands clenched into fists. “You’re enjoying this.”

Ivan gave a cold smirk. “I knew you were sharp.”

Alfred turned, face twisted as another retort bubbled to the surface. In an instant, Alfred saw that same amused look he had before. He narrowed his eyes. “Well, what can the big bad bear do, huh? How do I know you’re even a good waterbender? This could all just be a hoax, a waste of my time.”

Ivan sent him a leveling look.

“Sorry, I mean Grandmaster Bear,” Alfred added as Ivan opened his mouth. He was rewarded with a scowl. A noble triumph.

“I see we have a long way to go. By the end of our time together, you should be able to do this.” Ivan turned, arms moving in a great arc. Much like Alfred, he worked with the water from the lake, except there was no comparing their results. Water rose in a fine, thin, quick trickle from the lake, moving gracefully through the air in sweeping spirals to come circling around Ivan. Around and around it went, growing longer and longer, until a trailing coil was whirling around Ivan’s thick frame. His hands never stopped moving, slicing gently through the air as the waves ghost over sand on a beach. He crouched low, and his watery coin shrunk and lowered with him, only to expand as he straightened, whirring through the air, straightening into a spear of ice that buried itself clean into a nearby birch tree.

But Ivan was not done there.

Violet eyes narrowed in concentration as slowly his hand roved above the pristine snowy blanket before him; Alfred could see his knuckles whiten with tension as his hands clenched into fists, then, with a single, forceful punch-

Alfred’s jaw fell open. He scrambled closer, dropping to his knees to get a closer look. Before him stood a diorama of the North Pole, made entirely from packed snow and ice. The pale morning light fell upon glistening miniature buildings and alleys, and even as Alfred watched, Ivan moved water from the lake to fill the empty rivers circuiting through his small recreation. “That…spirits, that’s amazing!” he said, lost in his awe.

“And now we are going to work on getting you to that point,” Ivan cut in to his reverie. With a simple slide of his foot, the entire masterpiece dissolved into a pile of snow. Alfred blinked, saddened. When he turned to speak, he saw Ivan heading off to the smaller adjacent building beside his home.

“Hey, wait up! What’s happening?” Alfred scrambled up, hurrying behind.

It turned out Ivan had decided their first step in Alfred’s training was to take a steam bath. “I don’t get it,” Alfred said bluntly for the third time, sitting on a wood bench, clad only in plain shorts.

This prompted Ivan to explain for a third time, “You need to be aware of the water all around you. On the ground, in the air, clinging to your very skin. Even now I can feel the perspiration rolling down your back.”

Alfred’s gaze snapped to him, face twisted into a grimace. In spite of the heat, he shuddered. “Bit too much info there, Grandmaster Big Guy,” he said slowly. The look he received made Alfred sigh, and resign himself to at least trying. In his mind’s eye, he sought out the many infinitesimal water particles existing around him, the very droplets of sweat accumulating over his skin, the moisture against the outer walls of the sauna, the steam swirling around him, kissing his skin, dampening his hair.

“Avatar Alfred.”

Alfred’s eyes fluttered open to see two orbs of violet blinking at him from a thickened cloud of steam. “Did I do that?”

Ivan waved his hand in gentle, easy circles through the air, slowly dissipating the sudden mist. “I certainly did not.” He regarded Alfred with his usual refined interest. “Firebenders are taught the importance of control early on in life, but it’s an important lesson for all of us.”

“I was just trying to get a feel for what you were talking about, about being aware of all the places water can be.” Alfred stared down at his hands, then back into those strange eyes. The heat and humidity was making Ivan’s hair curl at the ends, framing his face in snowy waves. Though he was dressed similarly to Alfred, Ivan also continued to wear a decorative Water Tribe choker about his neck, blue in color, with fine silver stitching detailed across it. It certainly was not the engagement necklace typical among the women of the area, but it had to be important to remain on even in this stifling heat.

Suddenly, the heat felt like too much.

“Just a little bit longer,” Ivan assured with the ghost of a gentler smile. “Keep focusing on the water all around you for a few more minutes, but be sure not to try and manipulate it. It is easy to blindly use whatever is around you, but sometimes there’s more strength in  _ not _ acting.”

Alfred nodded, looking determinedly ahead. He sat there, in that moist, heated room Ivan called a banya, arms stiff at his sides as he tried to focus on focusing, and not on how the sudden sense of awareness he had for the man next to him, as if he could unravel his difficult personality if he studied his exterior long enough. His struggle went on in silence for several long minutes, or perhaps for the rest of the day, until Ivan nodded in approval, and they were allowed to go.

The cold outside felt both refreshing and torturous as Alfred stepped out into it. He stared in horror as Ivan simply strode on still without his coat, or even a shirt, striding through the snow on bare feet. “Problem, Avatar Alfred?” Ivan asked when he looked over his shoulder and saw Alfred’s petrified state. Only then did he begin tugging on the clothes he had tucked under his arm, taking his sweet time.

“Are you part polar bear dog?” Alfred asked wisely. “What’s  _ wrong _ with you?” Alfred teeth chattered as he bundled into the coat he had made much faster work of tugging on.

“If this weather bothers you, you are going to have a very hard time as a waterbender,” Ivan said, back again with his teasing smirk. His task done, he took up position in a clear patch of snow. “Now,” he began. Both arms moved in gentle, wide arcs, ending with a mighty sway, hands to the sky; at once, Ivan became raised on a pillar of ice. “Unseat me,” were his simple instructions.

Alfred stared, fists clenched, eyes calculating. Finally, some action.

He leapt forward, immediately spinning and twisting in the tight circular moves favored by his nomadic airbending brethren. With a grand kick of his leg, a funnel of wind went shooting towards Ivan atop his pedestal, only to be the narrow wall of ice Ivan had made-  _ that was now barreling straight for Alfred _ .

Alfred kicked off from the ground, leaping over the shining sheet of ice just as it collided with where he’d stood a second ago. He slowly floated down for a soft landing, teeth gritted.

“Waterbending only, Avatar Alfred,” Ivan jeered. “That’s the whole point of these lessons.”

“I’ll show you waterbending!” Alfred called up to him. He recalled what he had done in the banya, felt out the water all around him in its many forms, felt the swell of icy presence from the lake, focused his mind’s eye, let the water move by the will of his body, pulled back his fist, and  _ punched _ .

A heavy sprinkling of lake water splashed over Ivan, who stood with his arms folded, as if Alfred had done nothing at all. Which he might as well have.

And so began their lessons.

If Alfred had thought that time would be a balm for his initial failures, that each day would grant him landmark insights, he was only partly correct. Each day did produce revelations, but his progress was inconsistent at best.

Ivan was as insistent on starting early as he was with being addressed as grandmaster, which Alfred obeyed with the level of grace that could be expected of a sleep-deprived, dissatisfied young adult Avatar. Meaning he complained throughout the morning and recycled teasing nicknames to attach to that revered title Ivan was so fond of. Ivan was not passive, though; but while Alfred blatantly used teasing names, Ivan made his opinions known in the sarcastic way he said  _ Avatar Alfred _ .

His best escape from the stress of it all came during breaks, all of which were spent on his glider. Ivan watched all the while, no doubt, Alfred felt, disapproving of his use of airbending, but thankfully keeping silent.

At one point, Ivan had resumed his spot on his pillar of ice, this time with a seat of ice he fashioned for himself, repeating the instructions, “Unseat me- with waterbending.”

Alfred had summoned every last ounce of his concentration and will, focusing with all his might on the vast pool of water so close at hand. To his astonishment and enduring excitement, a mass of water left the lake, moving according to his swaying movements. In his excitement, Alfred made a wild gesture through the air, sending the stream of water thick and fast right at Ivan, who flew to his feet, kicking out with his leg to send it off course.

“Ha!”

“Why so excited, Avatar Alfred?” Ivan asked, pale eyebrow raised.

“I unseated you,” Alfred said cheekily, folding his arms as he puffed out his chest with pride. Such an act was getting easier to do now that he was getting used to the thick clothing.

Ivan’s look was mocking as he jeered, “Oh, thank the spirits our Avatar is good at wordplay, our world will be more balanced than it has ever been.”

Alfred’s anger and indignation flared up at once. “You just don’t like me because I did things out of order.”

“I don’t not like you,” Ivan protested, a flash of bemusement flickering in his eyes.

“Then why all the comments?” Alfred demanded to know.

“Because after all the reading I have done, it is nice to know that even the Avatar is just like the rest of us.”

That took Alfred aback. “Huh?” he said shortly, brow furrowed. He searched Ivan’s amused face, temporarily softened by this sudden bout of enigmatic honesty. Just as before, Alfred voiced his constant suspicion. “You’re really enjoying yourself, aren’t you?” Enjoying seeing the Avatar humbled, enjoying being the one to witness it, enjoying being the one to cause it.

Ivan nodded.

On day five of their little union Ivan decided that Alfred wasn’t picking up on waterbending well enough because he wasn’t fed the right incentive. Which led to him holding Alfred’s head beneath the surface of the lake after instructing Alfred to bend the water away from his face so he could breathe.

Alfred’s heart pounded in his chest; he did not yet feel in desperate need of oxygen, but the stress and increasing time spent was making his lungs start to ache in protest. His hands jerked and sliced through the water near him, and several times he could feel his hold strengthen on the elusive substance. But like holding water in carelessly cupped hands, it always slipped from him. Chest beginning to ache, and Ivan’s strong hands showing no sign of releasing him, Alfred decided to cheat. He used his airbending to create a makeshift bubble of sorts around his head. He took several long, deep breaths, feeling his shoulders sag with relief beneath Ivan’s grip. The reprieve lasted but a second before he was yanked bodily from the water. Ivan had him marched almost to the house before Alfred wrenched free. “Hands off, already! I did what I needed to!”

“I do not know how many times I need to say  _ Waterbending only _ ,” Ivan snapped. It was one of the few times Alfred saw him looking annoyed, though it was obvious he was trying to train his face into something more professional.

“Come on, what were you going to do- just hold me under until I splashed some water…Grandmaster?” Alfred added.

“It is sometimes tempting,” Ivan admitted tersely.

“The feeling’s mutual, sometimes,” Alfred agreed.

The two stood there like that for several more long moments, arms folded, half facing away from each other, lips pursed in what could have been a pout.

It was the great Bear of the East that deflated first. His broad shoulders drooped a bit as Ivan sighed, running a hand through his thick, wintry hair. “Perhaps learning more of the theory would help. You need to know how our forms differ from other bending techniques, how it influences everything.” With a strange glance at Alfred, Ivan hesitated, then gestured for him to come inside.

Indoors, after shedding some of their many layers and drying off, Ivan and Alfred were seated in a small room beside where they ate; the walls and table were covered in books and scrolls, all covering a wide range of topics. But it was the ones on waterbending that earned their attention. With the readings, Ivan explained how waterbending was an extension of the push and pull of the tides, similar to airbending in that it was not as direct as, say, earthbending, which was far more concrete and grounded. waterbenders worked with that which was ever-changing and nuanced, transcending many forms of existence. As Alfred remained seated with his scrolls, Ivan moved to stand in the hallway, using the extra space to demonstrate some very basic stances that were the very roots of many waterbending maneuvers. Alfred watched closely, dedicating not just the stances to memory, but the image of Ivan performing them, the way he fell easily into each position, how his massive, lumbering form was able to slowly twist and arch and slide.

Water constantly flows and moves, Ivan reiterated, and so the moves of a waterbender must also transition smoothly. There were no sudden starts or stops when moving as a waterbender. “Let’s try again with just getting a feel for liquid water, just basic manipulation.” And so they went once more to the lake. Right at the edge they stood, a foot between them, as Ivan demonstrated the basic task of pushing and pulling the water by the shore. Forward and back it went as he swayed with body and hands. Compared to the earlier stunts he had pulled, this should have seemed so amateur, but even this Ivan did with a sort of refined power.

Slowly, clumsily, Alfred mimicked him. His movements and those of the water did not have the same fluidity Ivan’s did, but it was still something. Ivan continued pushing and pulling even as he looked to Alfred, carefully monitoring his form, making corrections to his stance or gestures. It took time, but soon they were moving in unison on the snowy lakeshore, their combined strength granting greater momentum.

“Not bad, huh?” Alfred said with a grin.

“Good,” Ivan said simply, though with a nod of approval. “Now for something a little more advanced.”

And so Alfred was tasked with suspending the water in midair. This required all his earlier concentration and skill with feeling out the water, keeping a firm grip on it. When first the great bubbling mass rose from the surface, much of it cascaded right back down. Sunlight sparkled over the rippling surface as Alfred scrambled to keep all the liquid up, a deep crease carved into his brow as he struggled. Ivan watched all the while, hands folded behind his back, violet eyes critical.

“Remember, water is moving, and you should be too.”

Slowly, Alfred tried weaving his hands through the air, letting the energy flow through his body to command the element to stay aloft. More water fell, but what remained stayed undulating before him. Alfred beamed excitedly before casting a sideways glance at Ivan. Shock jolted through him as he saw the unmistakable look of pride fueling those amethyst flames. Elated, Alfred redirected his attention at the mass of water he was controlling. Drawing more from the lake, he took a bold step along the shoreline, moving the water with him as he strode. He glanced quickly over his shoulder and caught sight of Ivan’s surprised amusement. Encouraged, Alfred continued walking, arms always moving. A slight cramp formed in his lower back as his breathing grew louder; Alfred felt himself mustering every ounce of will to keep going with his improvised little moment of showing off. Gradually, his grip slackened, water trickling down from the floating mass.

He was a good twenty feet from where he’d started when at last the mass of water collapsed back into the lake, splattering little droplets across the surface and onto his boots. Alfred doubled over, panting, one hand pressed over the dip of his lower back as he grimaced. He heard the sound of crunching snow before he caught sight of Ivan’s looming shadow. “That was inspired,” the rumbling voice said.

Alfred, still hunched over, gave a shaky thumbs-up. “Just another day for the Avatar,” he panted.

“Are you hurt?” Ivan frowned.

Alfred shook his head, taking a few more steadying breaths before straightening. He fought down a grimace. “Just…really tried for that one.” He rubbed at his back more.

“I probably should have started you out with moves like this in the very beginning,” Ivan said rather glumly. “I just assumed you had… _ some _ history with waterbending, that you had at least learned the basics and moved on before mastering it.”

Alfred laughed sheepishly, back arching as he stretched. “Y-Yeah…nope. Just sort of…found a niche with earthbending first.”

“Your natural opposite.”

Alfred shrugged. “It’s just what came to me first after air, and I went with it.”

“You really take this lifestyle of personal freedom to extreme levels, don’t you?” Ivan said with a raised eyebrow as he led them back to the house. Alfred nodded with a tired but cheeky grin. “Well, it won’t do to exert yourself and get hurt. Take a break. You can read in the library if you want.”

“Actually,” Alfred began slowly, jabbing a thumb at the sky. “I think I’m going to spend some time on my glider.”

“You do not wish to just sit, read up on some history? It would be better if you-”

“Nah, trust me, this will relax me better than twelve hours of sleep ever could. Thanks, Grandmaster Bear,” Alfred cut in, hurrying to grab his glider. Ivan shook his head at Alfred’s retreating form. He watched the entire time as Alfred cheered and whooped and tore through the air. His movements were a remarkable display of a union between grace and power, all sweeping arcs and mounting speed. It was clear Alfred was in his element when in the air. Those blue eyes scanned the blinding white landscape of the North Pole, seeing easily over the surrounding walls into the main city, and beyond into the adjacent, less clustered areas. Alfred rose and fell on the wind, rising high above only to dive down, never once worried about crashing. A mighty  _ whoosh _ accompanied him as he sped past Ivan, catching sight of the bear’s thoughtful look and shake of the head.

0o0o0

“Ow!” Alfred cringed, stumbling in the snow and rubbing at his cheek. Across from him, Ivan watched with that same look of open amusement he’d been donning on and off all these days lately.

“You were supposed to redirect it,” he said coolly. The thick tendrils of water he was controlling still swayed around him like the petals of some bizarre flower. The one that had just whipped Alfred was resuming its lazy dance with the others.

“Yeah, I got that.” Alfred drew his hand away from his face, checking for blood and finding none. “Still a little new to this.”

“I noticed.”

Alfred glowered. Ivan smiled.

It was Alfred who deflated first this time, grunting as he stretched his cramped muscles. “Can we just go back to passing it back and forth?” Earlier today they had begun with a sort of improvised game of catch, pushing and pulling a swirling mass of water between them, back and forth, letting the energy of their bodies guide it.

Ivan frowned thoughtfully, coming to stand beside him. Alfred tensed beneath his touch as Ivan rested his hands on his shoulders, sliding them down his arms, over his chest and back.

“What’s wrong?” Alfred asked slowly, fidgeting.

“I have a suspicion,” Ivan said softly.

Ivan’s hand pressed between his shoulder blades. Alfred saw his brow furrow in concentration as he moved lower down his spine. Alfred became suddenly aware of how large and powerful Ivan’s hand felt against him, how, in this cold, he even seemed to feel warm.

Despite this warmth, a shudder traveled through him as one hand came to rest right at the base of his spine while the other fell on his lower stomach, right over the navel. “You are very tense,” Ivan noted, almost more to himself than to Alfred. “Your chi is heavily blocked off too. Let me see…” His eyes slid shut.

“Ah!”

A strange, unsettling shudder rippled through Alfred from where Ivan had touched. Alfred squirmed away, arched protectively over himself as his skin crawled. His mind was abuzz with that almost unnatural sensation that had overcome him, though not so strong that he missed the flash of concern and…was that fear in Ivan’s eyes?

“I did not mean it!” he said hurriedly, holding his hands close to his chest. For one bizarre moment, he seemed like a child who had been caught misbehaving.

“What was that?” Alfred asked through a grimace.

“I…nothing,” Ivan said, now looking anywhere but at Alfred.

That wasn’t good enough. “I came to you to master waterbending,” Alfred said fiercely. “I’m trusting you to help me- you could at least return the favor and share important things with me.” There it was, that authoritative tone befitting the reincarnated bridge between worlds, the keeper of balance, the Avatar.

Ivan looked hardly phased. “It’s a technique that is far too advanced for you. We are going to focus on what you can do. Assume your stance.”

“No,” Alfred said, turning away.

“No?”

“If I’m not going to get answers, then I don’t need to be here right now. I’m going into the city.”

“You cannot just leave- we are in the middle of training.”

“I can, and I’m going to.” Alfred marched straight into the house, emerging with his glider. He barely stopped out the front door before he was taking off. Ivan rushed forward, coming to a halt to watch as Alfred soared away, so much like a flighty little bird. Ivan’s shoulders sagged.

0o0o0

“Where’s my glider?”

Steam was pouring from Alfred’s nostrils, snow melting beneath his feet as the earth rumbled below. He marched straight up to Ivan, chest-to-chest with that massive bear of a man. He jabbed a finger hard into his ribs. “Where is it?”

“How dare you address me like that?” Ivan said, his eyes narrow violet slits.

“Where is it, Grandmaster Thief?” Alfred amended. Ivan had woken Alfred at their usual early hour before heading outside; the moon was out, and Ivan had claimed he was eager to practice his forms beneath the celestial body waterbenders so revered. When Alfred had clambered out of bed, however, he found the corner of the room where his staff usually stood to be empty.

“I am not responsible for possessions you cannot keep track of,” Ivan shot back.

“Oh, please,” Alfred said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ve wanted that thing gone since day one, thinking it’s some kind of distraction. What’d you do? Throw it into the lake? Going to set it on fire and make me put it out with waterbending?”

“I would never!” Ivan hissed. The air seemed to grow colder. The glassy surface of the lake nearest him began to freeze over.

“We’ll see what tune you’re singing when I beat the truth out of you,” Alfred snarled.

And they were off.

A jet of water came shooting at Alfred, who gave a mighty leap twenty feet into the air. He rocketed back down, right where Ivan was standing. The bear glided out of the way, leaving Alfred to punch a small crater into the now empty patch of ground. Ivan’s booted feet barely left the ground as he skated over the snow, freezing it over in front of him as he sped around Alfred, raising up chunks of ice and hurling them at his pupil. Holding his ground, Alfred gave several mighty swings of his fists. Chunks of earth punched through the snow and collided with the icy projectiles, knocking them right out of the air.

Encouraged, Alfred pushed forward. He may not have his glider, but he was still capable of airbending. He kicked and spun, limbs windmilling to send fierce torrents of wind at Ivan. The first few knocked him from his steady course. He stumbled, but used the momentum of his fall to send a water whip right at Alfred’s torso. Alfred hurried away, but winced as a painful stinging sensation bloomed from his lower back; he punched at the air. The ground where Ivan stood went shooting up. Alfred was rewarded with the sight of Ivan’s astonished face as he was sent up and up, before-

Ivan turned around and dove right off of his platform, landing with barely a splash into the lake. Alfred ran to the edge, scanning, eyes scrunched with the effort of discerning any shapes.

In a rush of waves, Ivan rose, freezing the water beneath him. As he ran, ice formed beneath wherever his feet stepped. Alfred took off after him, taking bounding leaps, lightly jumping from one small platform to the other. Right at the center of the large body of water, Ivan paused. Standing atop a large platform of ice, he faced the quickly approaching Alfred, arms raised. As he stepped back, Ivan drew off the water covering him and let it freeze. He did not wait to see what happened, instead skating away. Alfred was not so lucky, his speed causing him to careen right into the icy statue of Ivan. He smashed against it, crumpling on the platform with a groan. Clutching at his side, he looked around, catching sight of Ivan reaching the shore.

“Alright, Grandmaster, here I come.” Alfred let out a yell as he leapt forward, open palms facing behind him, as jets of fire shot out behind him, propelling him forward, across the lake, over the ice and water, straight for Ivan. Letting every ounce of pent up tension fuel his inner fire, Alfred sent a burst of flames for Ivan’s torso, intent on making him scamper.

Ivan’s eyes widened in mingled shock and…could it be…fear? Sheer primal instincts were the only thing driving him as he shot a jet of ice and water at the approaching inferno; the two forces collided, red and silver-blue, ceasing all progress. When the torrent died but a little, Ivan sent Alfred a livid glare. “ _ I said no firebending _ !” he hissed, raising his hands.

Alfred winced beneath that fearsome gaze, raising his hands in preparation to fend off an attack.

But that was no longer an option.

Alfred gasped as a wave of cold overcame him, struggling to move as his body became encased in ice, leaving only his head free. Ivan strode slowly up to him, some of the fear from before not fully gone, though it mixed heavily with anger.

“Did you ever stop to think,” he ground out, sounding much like the animal of his nickname. “That the reason you have never mastered this is because you  _ do not listen _ ? Countless waterbenders you have been to, and none able to teach you. The one consistency? You.” One of Ivan’s hands was clenched tightly in his pale scarf, holding it close over his neck, as if staunching the flow of blood from some invisible wound. His other hand, however, was balled into a fist, shaking as he kept it partially raised. He seemed to be having a private debate, a silent yet visible internal struggle. Alfred fought to move, to no success; his limbs were too restricted to bend.

“You have so much more potential than you seem to want to realize. And yet you disregard all of it, and think you know best. Well, sometimes you are wrong, Avatar Alfred.” Apparently steeling himself, Ivan raised his hand. At once, Alfred felt that same unnerving feeling spread through him, that sense of an impending loss of control, a discomfort being in his own skin.

And just like that, it was gone.

Ivan stepped back. He was no longer clutching his scarf, but rather the hand he had just raised to Alfred. Their eyes met.

Alfred took his chance.

Throwing his head back, Alfred sucked in a great lungful of air, and blew out. The torrent of wind knocked Ivan clean off his feet, crashing with a sickening noise against the wall of the banya. He landed in a heap, stirring feebly.

“Oh, no,” Alfred moaned, horrified. His struggles redoubled, Alfred seeking the tiniest bit of movement that would let him bend more. At last, he managed to get some friction going around his fingers; it was faint, but enough. His hands felt warm as he rubbed away at the nice surrounding him, eventually carefully using a breath of fire to speed up the process. Soon, his arms were free enough to punch away at the remainder of his confines, and Alfred scrambled hurriedly over to where Ivan lay. Gently, he eased Ivan’s head to face him. His fingers came away red.

“Oooh nooo. G-Grandmaster- hey, Ivan! Come on, Ivan, easy now. I’m sorry, I’m so, so, so sorry! I swear on the spirits I didn’t mean for this! Please, I’m sorry, please believe me!” His insides felt like ice now and it had nothing to do with the weather.

Ivan moaned, trying to draw a shaking hand to his wound, only to groan loudly, practically going limp in Alfred’s hold. Alfred kept a strong hold on him, slowly drawing Ivan close, into the safe cradle of his arms. “Oh, spirits, I’m sorry,” Alfred said again and again. He felt terrible all over. His back ached from where he had been hit, his legs felt like lead, and his strong, powerful arms capable of so much suddenly felt useless in the face of the brilliant blossoms of scarlet staining Ivan’s hair.

“You…listened,” Ivan said in a dry voice.

Alfred leaned close, face twisted in confusion. “What?”

He could see Ivan’s lips working as he tried to stay awake, fend off the dizziness. “You…listened. I said…no firebending…so you used air.” His bitter smile turned into a wince. Alfred felt him twitch in his arms.

Alfred tried for a laugh, though it sounded more like a dry sob. “I am  _ so _ sorry, Ivan. I thought you’d block it, I was running on pure adrenaline, I didn’t watch my strength.” He was rambling, hand skating over Ivan’s figure as he tried desperately to think of what to do. His stomach plummeted as Ivan moaned again, seeming to sink further against Alfred. “Hey, come on, Grand Master Big Guy,” he said bracingly, trying to sound more encouraging than he felt. “Let’s just get you to the city, and you can get some attention. I’ll bring you there.” He gently cupped Ivan’s wound.

And that was when he felt it.

Alfred gasped, drawing his hand away. He stared from his palm to Ivan’s head wound. Slowly, he brought his hand back to the blood. His skin tingled as he sensed all the potential energy pooling around the broken skin, the blood gathering there. He felt acutely aware of the entire area of the wound, where the skin was open, how deeply, the bruising on bones, everything. And closing it back up suddenly seemed like the easiest thing in the world.

Energy seemed to thrum in a concentrated wave between his hand and Ivan’s wound, an eerie musical note filling their ears as Ivan’s wound healed before his very eyes. Alfred nearly let go of Ivan in his shock, holding him tighter to compensate.

Violet eyes fluttered. Locked on to Alfred. Swam with awe and bemusement. “How did you know how to do that?” Ivan asked, voice still hoarse but much stronger now.

Alfred shook his head, staring down. “I…I didn’t. I had no idea…I  _ heard _ waterbenders could…could mend injuries, but I had no idea-”

“That you would be a healer,” Ivan concluded. He still looked amazed. One large paw reached up and delicately grabbed Alfred’s hand still stained with his own blood, inspected it. “But how could you, at this stage?” Ivan wondered aloud, making no move to leave Alfred’s hold.

But for a moment, Alfred was more interested in Ivan; he was not wearing his ornamental choker, and in the chaos of their fight his scarf had been loosened, revealing a jagged stripe of pink. “What is that?” he asked, eyes on the strange wound. “Did you get hurt there too?”

“I…have seen students able to heal, even out of nowhere, but they have been waterbending all their lives.” Ivan acted as if he had not heard. He glanced up as Alfred shifted uncomfortably. He gazed at him with a searching look, pressing his hand to Alfred’s chest. Alfred winced as that same intrusive feeling overcame him, body sagging when it receded. “Of course.”

Ivan slowly untangled himself from Alfred, crouching before him with renewed interest. “Come inside,” he instructed, rising to his feet, gesturing for Alfred to follow. Utterly nonplussed, Alfred obeyed. Inside, Ivan sat Alfred down at a carved wooden table, wasting no time in letting his hands roam over Alfred’s back. Alfred shuddered, not from unease, but how surprisingly welcome the contact was, how reassuring it felt. Ivan’s hands, like the rest of him, were large and roughened by winter and wind. Yet they spoke of strength and endurance and unrelenting protection from the bite of snow and the ending of another year.

“I thought so,” Ivan mused aloud, once more touching the dip of his spine.

“What is it- Grandmaster Ivan?” Alfred quickly added, wanting to make up for what had happened.

“I said before the flow of your chi felt blocked off,” Ivan explained, massaging the area with both hands. “Your chakra is blocking it.”

“Is that one important for this?” Alfred asked in confusion. At Ivan’s instruction, they relocated to in front of the heart, Alfred lying on his stomach atop the many cushions while Ivan kneaded at his back.

Ivan nodded. “This one is. This is the Svadhishthana, right at the base of the spine, and is closely associated with water.”

Alfred’s eyes widened, and he gasped. “So…if that’s too tense that the energy can’t flow as strongly,” he began.

Ivan leaned back, nodding once more. “Then you can never have been able to properly waterbend.” He hesitated, looking down at his long fingers. “It must have been affected when you got hit,” he said slowly, remembering when his water whip struck him. “And it was enough to let you heal. But it is not fully open. You can open it yourself with much mental training, but…” He licked at his thin lips. “I…could help, if you wanted.”

Alfred turned excitedly over. “You could?” Spiritual bridge between worlds or not, he wasn’t eager to pause in his learning to meditate for who knew how long. “What can you do? Is it more healing? But this isn’t really a wound, is it? Just…tension…”

Ivan pursed his lips, looking uncomfortable. “A little bit of that, and a little bit of…something else,” he said, sounding reluctant. Perhaps he even regretted offering.

“What is it?” Now it was Alfred’s turn to voice his sudden uncertainty. This was no time to bend to Ivan’s will if even he seemed hesitant. Alfred once more mustered up his most authoritative tone. “If you’re doing something to me, I have the right to know what it is. Otherwise, no deal.” It would be his loss too, but he couldn’t possibly stay passive at a time like this.

Ivan dropped his gaze, the muscles in his jaw working as he thought. Below, Alfred once more saw that strange mark poking out from beneath his mussed up scarf. “I,” Ivan began. “Waterbenders can…do many things. Water is in so many places. You felt that yourself. And water is considered the bringer of life. That is why we can heal.” He paused, steeling himself. “But we can do other things, because of the water in people’s bodies.”

Alfred suddenly felt squeamish. He shifted in his spot on the cushions, sitting up straight and giving Ivan his full attention.

Ivan’s eyes stayed locked on his. He seemed to be silently asking for Alfred to tell him he changed his mind, he didn’t need an explanation. But Alfred’s suspicions were already raised. Now, he just needed confirmation.

“We can bloodbend.”

Alfred stiffened, his insides running cold yet again. Without realizing it, he moved away from Ivan, lips pulled down in protest. Ivan noticed the movement and cringed. “I’ve heard of some weird things benders can do,” Alfred said with revulsion. “But that’s the scariest, the most… _ wrong _ .”

“I did not seek to learn it!” Ivan said hurriedly, a note of desperation tainting his words. “It was…it just happened!” Alfred had never seen such an emotion play across Ivan’s features before. It was like he was a whole other person.

“You just  _ accidentally _ started to bloodbend?” Alfred asked critically. “Who’s the poor soul you tried it out on?”

Something hardened in Ivan’s sunset eyes. “I will never regret that,” he said in a voice that likened to freezing wind over a sweeping tundra.

Alfred folded his arms, looking expectant. “Let’s hear it, then.”

Ivan’s gaze was still hard, yet something much more delicate welled up in his eyes as he began to speak.

“We of the Northern Water Tribe are spread out across the world. This is the home of my ancestors and so I call it my home too, though I was not born here. I was born in a humble settlement at the foot of the mountains that house the Northern Air Temple. Its position made it a bit of a crossroads for people of different nations, so different benders would often pass through. And they did not always get along.” He cast a stony look at Alfred. “Not everyone in my village were benders. It made them easy to bully. But the ones who could bend were targeted as well.” His hand gripped tightly at his scarf. “A firebender and earthbender duo liked to bother us a lot. Impose their own tax, demand thirty copper coins every other week, and threatened to level the house and burn it if we refused. The firebender was always looking for an excuse to destroy something.”

Ivan bowed his head, slowly unwinding his scarf. “When it was revealed that I was a bender, I tried to stop them. I was so young, and full of undeserved confidence. I thought finally my family and I could stop living in fear under the tyranny of others. And so when they came, I met them, and I tried to fight them. Looking back I am surprised I lasted as long as I did. I kept them busy, at least, if not always by fighting, then by retreating, drawing them away. Night fell by the time I was starting to feel worn out. And so they got the upper hand.” The scarf was pulled away, and that was when Alfred saw it. A collar of twisted, jagged pink burn wounds circling Ivan’s throat. “I never saw anything like it,” Ivan continued with a broken smile and a laugh that nearly broke Alfred’s heart. “The earthbender, he was able to manipulate a chain, a  _ metal chain _ . It got wrapped tight around my neck.” His fingers grazed his scars. “And the firebender…he put his hands on the chain, and…”

Alfred did not need Ivan to finish. He could imagine full well what happened next. He could see it plainly, moonlight falling onto the small battlefield, where Ivan, smaller in youth, fell before these two crooks. An ugly black chain was twined around his unblemished neck. The faceless firebender leaned down, clasping the chain, and let his steaming breath spill onto the metal. The screams of pain must have carried all the way back to the village.

“It  _ hurt _ so  _ much _ ,” Ivan whispered, face twisted as he clutched at his neck. “And I couldn’t escape it. Until…I raised my hand.” He mimicked the action, looking suddenly much older. “And, under the moonlight, before the very first waterbender, I felt this sudden power- I was suddenly so aware of just how much water my attackers were made up of. And I could control it.” His eyes locked on to Alfred’s. “It was both exhilarating and horrifying. I could…I could make them move without touching them. I made the earthbender retract the chain. My neck was throbbing, all I wanted was for my very head to fall off, but all I could feel was this untapped energy all around me, and I stood. And I made those two monsters face me. And I made them bow. ‘It’s time for you to leave,’ I said, and I  _ made _ them fly away, be gone. I like to think they still dream of me as much as I dream of them.”

For a long moment, Alfred remained silent. In all his journeys, he couldn’t fathom the feeling of helplessness, the desperation that Ivan must have felt, and at such a young age. The feeling of being defenseless to the demands of someone more powerful, only to see an escape, to cling to that hope, and be mutilated because of it. And when escape finally came, it was through something so…unnatural. “I’m sorry,” he said at last. His voice did not sound like his own. “That’s why you didn’t want me firebending.”

Ivan gave a noncommittal shrug. “Better safe than scarred even more,” he said simply. There was a pregnant silence, and then, “It felt good.” Alfred could hear his bitter shame mingled with brutal honesty. “But I do not like doing it outside of that. However…if it could help open your chakra, you could progress better with your bending.”

Alfred nodded, not sure what he was agreeing to. “It would…it would just be to fix my chakra, right?” Though his voice was soft, Ivan winced.

“Yes, of course. I would never do anything like that to you.” It seemed imperative that he establish that truth.

Once again, Alfred nodded, thinking. “I…yes, let’s do it,” he said after a long pause. He caught Ivan’s violet stare. “You shared something…really big with me. The least I could do was trust you in this.” He suppressed a shiver as he turned around, exposing his back. “Do your thing, Grandmaster Big Guy.” He heard movement behind him and felt Ivan’s cool hands on his back. Once more, that unsettling feeling pooled through him, and Alfred was not sure if it was worse or better that he now knew what Ivan was doing. He gritted his teeth as he stared ahead while Ivan worked, taking care to be slow and gentle. He focused on the sound of Ivan’s shallow breathing, letting himself get lost in the gentle inhales and whistling exhales, push and pull, up and down.

“Ah,” Alfred sighed, as something within him seemed to loosen. He slumped in his chair, rubbing at his back, which felt more relaxed than it had in some time. “Wow.”

“I think it worked,” Ivan said slowly. “We will know better when you bend, but I think you should relax it for a little first.” Alfred nodded shakily. He glanced over his shoulder, flashing a smile before his eyes widened. Through the doorway he spotted his glider leaning beside another staff that looked remarkably similar. “What’s going on?” Alfred asked, hurrying over.

“Oh.” Ivan shuffled behind, suddenly seeming sheepish. It seemed the bizarre turn of events today had left him feeling uncharacteristically opened before Alfred. “I was…trying to make a replica.”

“A replica?” Alfred picked them both up, eyeing the copy from different angles. “Why?” It certainly seemed to be a fitting project, with all the decorative woodwork that adorned the house- what’s another woodcarving project? Silence was his answer. Alfred glanced up. “How come, Grandmaster Twitchy?”

“I am not twitchy,” Ivan snapped, regaining some of his old fierceness. “And I made one because I wanted to try and use it someday- maybe.” It sounded like every word had to be dragged kicking and screaming from his mouth. The faintest hint of pink dusted his cheeks.

Alfred’s mouth hung open. “Wait a minute… _ that’s _ why you’re always watching me when I fly? You want to do that too?”

“You are like some flighty, strong eagle up there,” Ivan admitted stiffly. “It looks empowering, like you have the whole world open to you. No more being tethered to the ground.”

Something softened in Alfred’s chest. He peered openly at the large man before him, his massive frame taking up much of the small space. Ivan, Alfred was gradually realizing, was a man who wanted much but spoke little of it, contenting himself instead with quietly pining amongst the equally cold and solitary birches.

“Well, we’ll just have to get you up there,” Alfred said at last as he was filled with newfound resolve.

“Bears do not fare so well up in the air compared to eagles,” Ivan pointed out.

“Well, we’re the Avatar and a waterbending grandmaster. This should be easy.” Alfred put on a winning smile, crossing the distance to throw an arm over Ivan’s shoulders.

He felt Ivan stiffen for a moment, before his nose crinkled and those thin lips turned up in a challenging smile. “You’re on.”

0o0o0

It wasn’t the most normal picture, seeing Ivan handling a glider, but the nervous smile Alfred’s instructor kept fighting down made it an image he would not soon forget.

“Alright, I’ll be right here providing support if you need it, but really the wind will take care of a lot of the work. Just move like you’re surfing over a breeze.”

Ivan nodded, processing the instructions in terms of waterbending, surfing over frozen waves, soaring on tides of his own. Atop a high cliff the pair stood, the wings of their gliders out as cool air whipped at the wings as well as their hair and cheeks indiscriminately.

“Let’s go then! WHOO!” Alfred hollered as he leapt off, immediately getting caught up in the icy air, wind rushing in his ears as he soared around. He circled back, keeping a close eye on Ivan, who was only just now jumping. He immediately began to descend into a dive. Alfred flew over, keeping a steady breeze beneath Ivan’s wings, getting him upright. Ivan glanced around, gave an appreciative nod, before refocusing on in front and below him. A bubble of laughter burst from him as he took it all in, being able to exist high above the mundane world and its many pains. Alfred wove around and under him constantly, spotting him if he dipped to low, or else speeding ahead to demonstrate how best to turn. Ivan followed, admittedly clumsily, on his tail, knowing he was not nearly as fluid or skilled as Alfred, but unable to care in his excitement.

And when Alfred turned back, the Avatar was treated to one of the most beautiful expressions he had ever witnessed. Pools of blue widened as golden locks whipped around them; his earlier easy smile slid for a moment as wonder overtook him. But soon he was matching Ivan’s bashful giddiness with a similar look, slowing so they could fly closer once more.

When finally their excitement did not warm them enough against the biting northern chill, they carefully headed down to land. Alfred could touch down in his sleep, landing easily on two feet. He quickly turned his attention to Ivan, ready to help as necessary. The great, powerful bear wobbled slightly in the air, legs scrambling as he skidded to a long and clumsy halt some thirty feet from where Alfred had landed. Alfred hurried over, bending down the pile of snow and limbs to check on him. Ivan turned over, loud, hearty laughter spilling from his lips. His cheeks were pink from the cold and his hair was quite windswept, and he looked happier than Alfred had ever seen him. Soon, Alfred’s shoulders shook as he joined in laughing, even as he was playfully yanked down to join Ivan in the snow.

0o0o0

“Why don’t you go on your glider during breaks anymore?” Ivan inquired.

Alfred clearly whipped around, eyes doubled in size. “Mind your business,” he said shrilly. Several days had passed since their revelations, and Alfred felt remarkably rejuvenated. waterbending came with much greater ease now that his chi was able to flow properly, though there were areas he struggled with that required Ivan’s forceful hand to help him master. The Bear, in turn, was a bit more patient with him, but firm when he needed to be. The lessons, no longer impaired by Alfred’s blocked chakra, were exactly what he needed them to be to learn best.

Ivan marched closer to the mound of ice Alfred was blocking. “Stand aside, Avatar Alfred.” He gave a firm push, leaning in to inspect the carving. His mouth fell open. A face looked back at him, a face molded from the ice bearing such delicate features and tender care it seemed wrong it should be made from something so cold. Wide eyes gazed thoughtfully ahead beneath a full head of hair, all above a large nose and small, secretive smile. The face sat on a partially made neck that, in place of ugly scars, was wrapped in a band of delicate swirls. Ivan knew who it was meant to be, but simply could not image such a beautiful creation could be inspired by himself.

“This is what I see,” Alfred said, eyes glued to the ground. “What others should see. And what I hope you see too.” He forced himself to look up. “I know you’ve been hurt, and I know you have every right to be full of suspicion and fear…but then the world doesn’t get to see just how incredible you look when you’re happy.”

Ivan did not know what to say. They stared at each other, the stubborn, ostracized air nomad Avatar and the isolated waterbender full of unrequited desire.

It occurred then to Alfred, standing so close to Ivan under a darkened moonlit sky, just how much Ivan looked like winter itself. Pale, frosted hair, thickened against the cold. Large, sturdy build, impenetrable, unmoving, yet housing a tender soul. Eyes like winter sunsets over white-capped mountains. Lips pale and chapped, beautiful in their flaws.

When their lips touched, it was a soft, fleeting moment of contact, but like a stone thrown into a glassy lake, its ripples were far-reaching.

“Ivan,” Alfred said softly, his breath cool as it spilled over Ivan’s face. “I think I’d like to kiss again.”

Ivan leaned forward, his forehead pressed against Alfred’s. “Only if you call me Vanya.”

0o0o0

As he was destined to, Alfred mastered waterbending. It was reward enough to see the open respect Ivan had when he gazed at him. With both of their statuses, it had always felt as if they were equals, but now they both seemed elevated, perhaps in their enlightenment of each other, of themselves.

“Congratulations, Avatar Alfred,” Ivan said with none of the old biting sarcasm. He laid an open hand atop his fist and bowed deeply.

Alfred did not move, did not turn away. His eyes remained glued to Ivan, to that stubbornly impassive look, still refusing to admit what they both were feeling.

“Come with me.”

Ivan’s earlier nonchalance gave way to something almost remorseful, yet Alfred had never seen remorse laced with such impatience before, such pained denial. “And why would I do that? I have my life set up right here.”

“It’s your job to do whatever you can to make sure I can maintain balance in the world,” Alfred said slowly, unable to fully fight down a smirk. “This is for the greater good.”

Ivan’s eyes widened at Alfred’s nerve. “Are you using your rank as Avatar to drag me along?”

“No. I’m using my rank as the man you haven’t stopped looking at all morning.”

Ivan blinked, the faintest tinge of color blossoming in his cheeks. Alfred’s smile grew. He knew he had won.

“If I come,” Ivan said in his rumbling voice.

“ _ When _ you come,” Alfred corrected cheekily.

“ _ If I come _ ,” Ivan growled. “It is still as your grandmaster. And I will be addressed as such.”

There was no hiding his smile as Alfred loped over to Ivan’s massive tense form and threw an arm around him. Ivan’s scowl deepened. “You got it, Grandmaster Vanya. Thanks to your sacrifice, this world is going to be the most balanced it’s ever been!”

“We shall see,” Ivan said softly. In one fluid motion, his hand traveled in a sweeping arc, sending snow buffeting against Alfred knocking him from his feet. “You still have a long way to go,” he said to the snowy mound that was Alfred. Alfred spluttered and cursed, flailing to get the wet coldness off of him. When he wiped the snow away from his glasses, it was to find Ivan now bearing a satisfied grin.

He was still wearing that smile when he took a step forward to help Alfred back up.

Only to trip as Alfred froze the snow around his other foot.

Caught by surprise, Ivan’s arms swiped at the air until he came tumbling down beside Alfred. The two stared, Avatar and Waterbending Master, gaping and glaring at their faces glistening with unmelted snow. Then, as one, they burst out into laughter. Cold seeped into their clothes and skin and hair, but for the moment, they had a mind only for the adventure that lay before them- and the company they would have along the way.

“Come on, Avatar,” Ivan said once his laughter had subsided. Alfred clasped his large, powerful hand as they both clambered to their feet. “If I am being dragged along with you, I need to pack. We can stay one more night. Go heat up the banya and we can warm up there before dinner.”

Alfred let steam pour from his nostrils at the prospect. “As you wish, Grandmaster.” Open hand resting atop a closed fist, Alfred bowed.

The rest of the day was spent taking it all in, the commencement of a whole new future and its vast array of possibilities. Perhaps they would travel southeast and make for the big city, Ba Sing Se, and experience the hustle and bustle of one of the most successful kingdoms in the land. From there, they could double back west and travel to the Northern Air Temple, bask in the ancient history of the monks. Further southwest would carry them to the grandeur of the Fire Nation. Maybe, with some stern yet comforting persuasion from Ivan, Alfred would return to the Air Temple of his birth once more.

Only tomorrow knew what would come. Tomorrow, the Eagle of the West and the Bear of the East would set out for the wide world, together.

THE END

**Author's Note:**

> Not much more to say here except thank you for reading! I actually had this posted on my tumblr and FF accounts a lot sooner than this- I really thought I had posted here. Whoops. I love these sorts of crossovers.


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